The Way to a Girl's Heart
by Ashlee1
Summary: Miss Parker and Jarod come to an understanding


The Way to a Girl's Heart  
  
By: Ashlee  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, though I will place my fifty dollar offer back on the table. hint hint wink wink  
  
Author's Note: I was cleaning my room and found the first two paragraphs scribbled on a piece of paper. I started typing and within two hours came up with this little piece of work on August, 15th 2002.  
  
Spoilers: None - well uh kinda but nothing that will ruin an episode  
  
Rating: PG-13 for swearing..again  
  
Keywords: J/MPR  
  
Summery: Miss Parker and Jarod come to an understanding  
  
Feedback: It would be nice :) Feedback has a +1 correlation with my GPA.  
  
===  
  
Sometimes I feel horrible for what I've done. I know that I've caused her all of this pain. I make late night phone calls accusing her family of unspeakable horrors. I play games with her knowing full well that they do. But I'm sure it's the only way. What else could I possibly do? She won't let me near her, and while I'm pretty sure she wouldn't take me back, I don't want to catch her at the wrong moment and test that theory.  
  
I wonder if she knows; if she knows why I do this. I'm sure she figures it's because I get my kicks out of torturing her, but I would never do that, especially not to her. She is the one person that I would do everything to protect.that's why I tell her what I do. The last thing I want to be is the person who gave her an ulcer, the reason she's up all night contemplating her existence. I don't want to cause her any pain, but, in my attempt to make her life better, it seems all I do is hurt her. She deserves better than that, better than me. I tell myself that I do this because I love her, that I'm just trying to protect her, but can that even be true will all the pain that I cause her on a daily basis? Probably not, or, if it is, perhaps this sorted romance was never meant to be. Perhaps it will always be like this; two lonely people looking for the same thing. Me on the run and she forever hunting.  
  
I sigh. Maybe it's a clue that its time for me to hang up my hat, stop running, stop contacting her, but I don't think I can do that. No matter how much it might help her, it would kill me, literally. I think part of the reason I call at three a.m. is so that I can hear her voice like I remember it, before the hunt was on. When she still loved me, when she was still the innocent girl that I fell in love with, when things were so much simpler. I look at my cell phone lying on my bed and consider calling her to tell her all of these things that are keeping me up. That I still love her and that, while she might not believe me, the things I do are what I believe are in her best interest. That, of course, will only serve to piss her off. Miss Parker doesn't like to have her autonomy threatened.  
  
I think about not calling her at all for a while, but now that I think of it that upsets her as well. I just wish there was something, anything, that I could do to make her happy. I would turn myself in, but to be quit honest, I don't think that's what she wants either. Women are so complex!! I just can't figure it out. I do one thing for Parker, she gets pissed, so then I do the other and WHAM!! She's still mad. I may be a pretender, a genius, but the cognition of the female sex is still beyond me.  
  
I sigh even heavier and lay back on my uncomfortable motel mattress, my phone lying next to me, mocking me. I look at the clock on my bedside table. It would almost five a.m. back in Blue Cove; Miss Parker should be awake and out of the shower. I roll over and give into the urge that I've had since my last call with her, almost a week ago now. Hitting the speed dial I lean back again and wait. "What?!?!?" She demands and I smile. She tries to sound so forceful.  
  
"Hey," is all I say, in a rather quiet, conversational tone.  
  
I hear her sigh, the sound almost inaudible. "Jarod, fancy that." Her tone is mocking, but I sense a softer one behind it. "What do you want?"  
  
I pause as I consider the question. Should I tell her what I want? That I want her? That I want to help her? That I'm a miserable failure when it comes to showing her how I feel? I sigh, almost grief-struck, as I reply. "I just want to talk."  
  
I hear her snort. "You just want to *talk*? That's something new; usually you want to tell me what a horrible lineage I come from."  
  
I hear her clank something, probably a coffee mug against the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry Miss Parker," I pause trying to rationalize my reaction so that I don't sound completely narcissistic. "I.I guess I just failed miserably in my attempt to help."  
  
I hear her intake of breath, and I await her response. I wince, expecting her to yell, but nothing happens. I open one eye in anticipation. I was about to ask if she was all right when her voice came over the line. "You're sorry??? Do you have any *idea* what the shit you've pulled has done to me?? Do you??" She was yelling now, and I decide that it'd be best if I let her continue - maybe this is what we need, a full out argument to clear the air. I can hear the waver in her voice and can almost see the tears streaming down her face. I wish I could hold her. "My whole life I've been strung around, my whole goddamn life. And then you come in and take the fucking cake. You have me look into my paternity, lead me around by a leash, and you have me dig up my own mother's fucking grave and you somehow think that 'I'm sorry' is going to make everything better?! Well let me tell you what senior genius, a million sorry's wouldn't cut it. I thought you were different, that you of all people would know how much this would hurt me. And the fact that you knew me, *understood* me only made the situation more painful. So you can say you're sorry all damn day, but it won't make a lick of difference."  
  
She stops, and I hear one, small, controlled sob escape her lips. I to am crying, but have somehow managed to stay in control. I lower my head and my voice. "I know that I can never make up for what I've done, that nothing I say will ever be enough. I just.I just wanted you to know that it wasn't meant to hurt you." I laugh sardonically. "I guess all my planning backfired, huh? I know that I can't change or make up for what I've done, not ever, but I want to make a new start at this thing.so maybe." I pause, her line is tapped for sure, and some things should be left out of the Centre's greedy little paws.  
  
I hear her sigh and a Kleenex rub against the mouth piece of the phone. "Tell you what, you start just telling me what you know straight up, that's a start." A knowing tone comes into her voice, making me smile. "We'll work on the rest later."  
  
"Okay Miss Parker." My smile grows wider, "And I promise, no more late night early morning calls!"  
  
I hear her low chuckle. "You know the way to a girls heart Jarod." And with that she disconnects the call. That went much better than planned! I sit up and run a hand through my hair and wipe away a stray tear. The path to forgiveness is a long one, but at long last we are on our way, nothing means more to me than that, nothing. I reposition myself on my bed, rolling over. I write a quick note, make a few calls, and grab my things to leave.  
  
===  
  
I walk into my office just as Broots turns the corner of the hallway running at full speed. Grabbing my door frame he whips himself in and pauses to catch his breath. I look at him, with one well manicured brow raised, waiting for him. "Hot," he puffs in and out some more air, "Lead on Jarod," some more puffing. This is getting annoying. If I hadn't been in such a good mood after my talk with Jarod I would have killed him by now, but I resist and wait. "Jet ready."  
  
I nod. "Let's go"  
  
Once we were in the small town in Alabama, the heat damn near one hundred, we get into a waiting car and drive over to another small town. I lean my head back against the seat and sigh. I just can't stop thinking about my conversation with Jarod this morning. It sounds stupid, even ridiculous that anything could have been solved with that conversation, and maybe nothing was. But it did open some things up, it made me realize that he wasn't just trying to get on my nerves, though he did, and maybe it got us on some sort of track. I shake my head - since when do I want to be on any sort of track with Jarod?  
  
I sigh, causing Broots to glance over at me. I don't pay any attention to him, I'm still trying to figure out when things changed. Maybe there wasn't any specific interval, but it happened on a more subconscious level over time. Maybe I finally realized that no matter how much I was told that I should hate Jarod I just couldn't forget that light in his eyes, the way he comforted me, how he was always there for me, the way he looked at me. His eyes so full of understanding, so trusting and he placed that trust in me. It was almost empowering. It made me feel like I was important, like I could handle anything. I could deal with my father, my mothers murder, anything. Until they took him away.  
  
I'm jarred out of my thoughts as the sweeper slams on the brakes in front of a seedy motel. I step out of that car, standing up straight, and confidently put on my sunglasses. Walking to the room that Broots informed me was to be occupied by Jarod I pull my gun and nonchalantly hold it at my side. I walk up to the door with Sam, Broots, and Syd trailing me. I throw open the door, knowing that it will be empty. Walking in I do the once over, which is confirmed by Sam. Sydney begins to do his usually routine of surveying the room and it's contents while making a small psychological profile in his mind which will be typed out and on my desk my mid evening tonight. Broots, as per usual, is standing nervously at the doorway.  
  
Walking briskly about I begin moving the miniscule items about, looking under the bed, flipping through the phone book on the desk, doing the usual things I do to keep myself busy while Sydney looks for clues. I pick up a pillow and a small note falls onto the bed. With a curious look I pick it up. I flip it open with a bright red fingernail that not only matches my shirt, but my lipstick and underwear as well. As I read I have to force myself not to smile. I unceremoniously stuff it in my pocket. Turning to the rest I insist that we are wasting our time and storm out of the room. A few seconds later the rest follow and we are on our way.  
  
Once we bored the plane I make a trip back to the lavatory. After locking the door I sit on the closed seat and reopen the note. I smile as I read the words, short and sweet.  
  
Parker - It'll take a while, but we'll get there, I promise. I've always known the way to your heart, it just took me a while to realize it.  
  
Love, Jarod  
  
Smiling I put the letter in my pocket and wash my hands. I walk out of the bathroom, a small, almost unnoticeable smile playing on my lips. As I retake my seat both Broots and Syd look at me oddly, and I ignore them. Things are falling into place - to the way they were meant to be. Soon, very soon, everything will be all right. 


End file.
